


a road paved with good intentions

by Sway



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Awkwardness, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sway/pseuds/Sway
Summary: “You’re a bloody idiot, Harry Hart. This clearly is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.When Eggsy agrees to have dinner with Charlie Hesketh he knows it's a stupid idea but he does it to save his job.Harry, their waiter that night, knows immediately that Eggsy is not having a good time. And he comes up with a plan. A rather stupid one.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85





	a road paved with good intentions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zebraljb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/gifts).



> Totally late with the birthday fic but this went out of hand pretty quickly. I hope you'll get to enjoy it. *hugs*  
> I don't know anything at all about waiting table so... there we are.

Eggsy knows a bad idea when he’s trapped in one. He’s not stupid - no matter what Dean used to say - but how he has agreed to this… he doesn’t know.

For some stupid lizard brain reason he’s sitting in the most posh restaurant he’s ever seen from the inside, opposite of him a guy he doesn’t even particularly like. Charlie is the nephew of one of their wealthiest clients and when he had made advances during one of his uncle’s fittings, Eggsy had agreed to dinner with him. 

Best not alienate him, he’d thought. Be on good terms with the guy or there’ll be talk. Anything to keep his job, really, which had been a draw of luck to begin with. 

But now, sitting in the booth in the far corner of the room, he realized what a mistake this had been. 

Charlie was as dull as a doornail, douchey talk included. The prices of the menu were well above Eggsy’s paygrade. And he had no idea what any of the items were. They even called chips french fries.

“Good evening, gentleman. My name is Harry. I’ll be your waiter this evening. Are you ready to order yet or do you need a minute?”

Eggsy almost drops the menu as the waiter appears at their table, pouring water into their glasses. Now that man… Tall and beyond handsome with dark-rimmed glasses and the fluffiest hair Eggsy has ever seen. He’s wearing a black suit that’s clearly tailor-made; to notice that Eggsy takes great pride since he’s started working for Kingsman Tailors.

“Eggsy?” Charlie almost snaps as Eggsy doesn’t reply. 

“Wha?” Eggsy asks eloquently, looking back at his date. 

“What do you want?”

Eggsy swallows, looking between Charlie and Harry, then down at his menu. “I.. I’m not sure.”

Charlie curses under his breath, trying to hide it against the rim of his glass.

“May I make a suggestion?” Harry politely, completely ignoring Charlie. 

“Uhm… yeah… sure.”

“I would go with the cold ratatouille for starters. And you cannot go wrong with chicken breast for the main.” Harry points to the mentioned meals on the menu. “Some white wine to go along with it?”

Eggsy nods somewhat helplessly. “Yeah, sure.”

“Excellent. You won’t be disappointed.” With a little bow, Harry turns to Charlie. “And for you, gentleman?”

Charlie rattles off his order, putting an annoying emphasis on anything that’s even french-adjancent. Once Harry left their table, he rolls his eyes. “Bloody poofter.”

“So are you,” Eggsy says before he can stop himself. 

“You’re comparing me to him?” Charlie leans across the table the way Eggsy has seen on way too many bad cop shows. “I like blokes, yeah. But I’m not like that.”

Eggsy doesn’t reply. Because what he might say would cut this evening short and if he wants to stay in the Hesketh’s good graces, he needs to let this night play out whether or not he likes Charlie’s attitude. What he would say is something like ‘I wish you were more like that because then I’d actually be interested in spending the evening with you instead of just going through the motions because it’s good for business’.

*

Harry sees them the second their receptionist leads them to their table. 

He knows the dark haired man. He’s been here before but with a different company, all of them young men from wealthy homes judging by their clothing. He’s always taking great pride being able to judge people as quickly, it has saved him from many arguments. 

This evening’s companion seems different somehow. 

He’s young, too, but in a more boyish way with a square jaw and the collar of his shirt a bit crooked. Said shirt stretches around his arms and over his chest, the top button holding on for dear life. What brief glimpse of his lower half Harry gets makes his mouth water just a bit. Tight trousers accentuate his arse and thighs in the best of ways. What makes Harry’s brow tick up though are the garish orange socks that peak out at his ankles. You certainly can’t have everything.

He waits until the couple has taken their seats and slowly counts to one hundred, giving them just the right amount of polite time to browse the menu.

“Good evening, gentleman. My name is Harry. I’ll be your waiter this evening. Are you ready to order yet or do you need a minute?”

Harry tries not to notice the young man who isn’t their regular customer stares up at him. He tries not to notice the bright green eyes, and that one delicious looking mole that’s peaking over his collar.

Harry, behave yourself. This is a place where people eat.

“Eggsy?” The regular snaps and Harry makes a mental note. Eggsy. Weird

“Wha?” Eggsy asks eloquently, looking back at his date. 

“What do you want?”

Eggsy swallows, looking between the regular and Harry, then down at his menu. “I.. I’m not sure.”

Charlie curses under his breath, trying to hide it against the rim of his glass.

Harry chooses to ignore the man. He could and would berate him on what is actual proper behaviour not just in this place but also when in company. Especially in a company such as young Eggsy who clearly has never been in a posh restaurant like this and - if their evening goes the way it starts - never will again. “May I make a suggestion?” 

“Uhm… yeah… sure.”

“I would go with the cold ratatouille for starters. And you cannot go wrong with chicken breast for the main.” Harry points to the mentioned meals on the menu. “Some white wine to go along with it?”

Eggsy nods somewhat helplessly. “Yeah, sure.”

“Excellent. You won’t be disappointed.” Harry gives him a little bow. He knows it’s too much but he feels like Eggsy needs that. Then he turns to the regular. “And for you, gentleman?”

*

For Charlie, Eggsy’s silence is answer enough. He leans back again and takes another sip from his water, looking down at his phone every so often. 

Eggsy plays with the edge for the tablecloth. He’s not interested in small talk, never has been. He either has a proper conversation or he doesn’t. The idle chit chat he has to uphold in the shop is his personal nightmare. 

But he smiles and converses as much as he can. He’s on safe terrain when Charlie talks about football, he pays enough attention to it when he’s at the pub with his mates. Then it’s on to cricket which has never made much sense to Eggsy and only conjures up the vivid memory of his acquaintance with a cricket bat at the age of twelve.

Music is fine enough Charlie’s taste in hip hop is not really his thing but he feigns interest well enough that they’re able to talk about that long enough for the starters to arrive. 

Charlie has awful table manners. Eggsy might not come from a posh home where you’d have six forks and nine knives but at least he knows not to slurp his soup. 

“Is everything to your satisfaction, gentlemen?” Harry appears at their table out of nowhere, refilling their water.

“Yes, thank you.” Eggsy smiles politely even though his ratatouille could with a little more pepper. 

“Bit bland but if you’re hungry, right?” Charlie says instead and grins like an idiot.

“I’ll let the chef know.” Harry answers with a truly stoic politeness. “Any more wine?”

“Yes!” Charlie and Eggsy say in unison. At least something they have in common. 

*

Harry watches the disaster unfold over starters. 

While the regular shovels the soup into his mouth, his companion - Eggsy - tries his best to conjure up everything he’s probably ever seen, heard and read about table manners. He sits with his back ramrod straight, holding the cutlery as if his too strong grip might break it, and only takes the smallest bites. 

They talk every now and then but it seems stilted and awkward. Why these two ever considered having dinner together is beyond Harry. The least he can do is try and make sure their dining experience is somewhat pleasant.

He tops off their water and asks if everything is alright. 

Eggsy answers politely. The regular does not. Clearly something he has not learned no matter how long they’ve kept him in Oxford or Harvard. 

Harry can’t hide a smile when they both ask for more wine. 

*

Film is an alright topic with Charlie even if their tastes differ just as much. 

While Eggsy has always been more interested in the classics - those he used to watch with his mom before Dean came along - Charlie likes the big loud Hollywood blockbusters. They are alright if you’re a bit tipsy from the pub but you forget them as soon as you’re on the tube.

Charlie scoffs when Eggsy says so. “So what’s your favorite then?”

Eggsy thinks about it for a moment. The truth or something easy?

“My Fair Lady,” he says then. 

Another scoff. “What old thing? Isn’t that something old poofters like to watch in a matinee?”

“Unfortunately they don’t do matinees all that often anymore,” Harry says and they both stare at him. “Theatres went out of business when all the other old poofters died and left me by myself. And the film certainly is old but it’s also a classic about achieving one’s true potential and overcoming the circumstances of one’s upbringing and societal corset.”

They still stare.

“Your main courses, gentlemen.”

Without losing a beat, Harry places their plates in front of them. 

“Enjoy.”

Eggsy is still staring after him while Charlie has already dug in. Beautiful and witty and snarky and beautiful. Why couldn’t he go out with guys like that? Because he is only twenty-four and that man is obviously much older and way more sophisticated and educated and all the things Eggsy would never be. 

“I’m going to talk to my uncle. He’ll have that bloke fired. Can you believe the nerve in him? Bloody waiter. Thinks he can run his mouth like that?” Charlie grumbles around his steak that looks very, very rare. 

Again, Eggsy remains quiet, smiling a little to himself. While he’d like to agree with everything Harry has said, he has long since learned to keep quiet in situations like that. Nothing good would come off it and he won’t be the one who gets into a fight at a posh restaurant. 

*

“What in the lord’s name did you just do, Harry?” Merlin stage whispers as Harry approaches the bar to place the order from another table. “Don’t you know who that bloke is?”

“I know he’s a regular but…”

“That is Charlie Hesketh.”

“Hesketh? As in…”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Merlin grumbles something noncommittal while pouring the ordered wines. 

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care how much money that family has. Doesn’t give him the right to behave like that. I’ve never seen him twice with the same companion, he’s always rude and his tips are not worth mentioning,” Harry replies haughtily. “Besides…” He clears his throat. “He called me an old poofter. Didn’t think I heard but…”

“I call you an old poofter, Harry.”

“Yes, you do but you’re… you. That’s different.”

Merlin scoffs. “Thanks. That’s lovely.”

“You know what I mean. We’ve been gay longer than these two have been alive. We know what it’s like having to hide it, fearing the repercussions. They should be glad we paved the road for them and…”

“Harry… you’re lecturing again.” Merlin places the fourth glass on a tray. “And your order is ready.”

*

“Do you want dessert?” Charlie asks once their plates are cleared away.

“I’m… I don’t know.” Eggsy tries to remember how much cash he has with him. He doesn’t trust that Charlie would actually pay for their dinner even if he has invited him. 

“I’ll have the chocolate parfait,” Charlie announces.

“Anything for you?” Harry asks, turning to Eggsy. 

“Do you have anything…” Eggsy wants to say ‘cheap’ but he knows the answer is no. 

“Our selection of macaroons is always a favorite,” Harry suggests. 

Eggsy shrugs. “Yeah… yeah, alright.”

“Very well. I’ll be right back.”

*

“I know what this is,” Merlin murmurs at him. “This is one of your little fantasies you make up about the guests.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. I’ve seen you fall in love with a patron more times than I care to count, thinking about who they are, what they do… but you’ll never know. The ultimate tragedy.”

“You’re a horrible friend, Hamish,” Harry snaps, caught in the act. 

It’s true, though. He has caught himself doing that as well, especially when he notices his guests are not happy. Then he starts contemplating if it’s just the food or if their day is weighing down on them or maybe even their company. He’s made up countless of these little episodes, some of them he’s shared with Merlin much to his oldest friend’s amusement. What most of these stories have in common is that they center around attractive young men that are so far out of Harry’s league that it’s laughable. 

“You need to get laid,” Merlin comments when Harry falls silent, trying to cast a sneaky glance around the room and at the poor boy sitting with Charlie Hesketh.

“Excuse me?”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Harry puffs out his chest. “That is none of your business.”

“You should go to the pub with me. I can hook you up with Al…”

“I am not sleeping with someone you’ve already slept with.”

Merlin smirks at him. “What? You’re afraid we’ll compare and contrast?”

“I know you will because you’re an awful person.” With that, Harry rushes off to serve the desert.

*

“Are you about done?” Charlie asks once he’s finished his chocolate souffle.

Eggsy is still chewing on his last macaroon that is absolutely delicious. He’s only had one before which had been a sample he’d gotten at Covent Garden last year. “Yeah… yeah we can…”

Charlie raises his arm and asks for the bill. True to Eggsy’s suspicion he asks for the bill to be split and Eggsy is glad he’s opted for the less pricey items on the menu. 

*

Charlie Hesketh nonchalantly places one of his many credit cards into his folders while the other man - Harry still doesn’t understand how someone as gorgeous as him can go by Eggsy - is leafing through his wallet. There are a few pound notes there but obviously it’s not enough to foot the bill in cash. 

At last and with sagging shoulders, he reaches for a card on his own and tucks it into the folder. 

Harry goes over to the table to retrieve the folders. “I’ll be right back.”

At the register, he swipes Charlie’s card first, printing out his receipt. Then he hesitates. 

He shouldn’t be doing this. It’s a bad idea and he knows it. But still he reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket for his own card and swipes it instead of Eggsy’s. 

The second the transaction is confirmed, he knows how foolish he has been. What does he expect to happen when Eggsy notices the lack of withdrawal from his account? Will he notice? Of course, he will. What will he do? Will he come back?

“You’re an idiot, Harry,” he says to himself, trying to retract the transaction but it has already gone through. To undo it he’d have to let Eggsy know and that would unravel this whole stupid brainfart of an idea. He could pretend he had swiped Charlie’s card twice but that would drag him even further into this mess.

“Waiter,” Charlie calls from their table, sounding impatient.

So Harry puffs out a breath, puts on a face that doesn’t give away his bout of idiocy and returns the cards and receipts to their respective owners. 

“I do apologize for the wait, gentlemen. The register has been acting up lately.”

“Place like this, you’d think you have more state of the art equipment but I guess everything is ancient here,” Charlie says spitefully, putting his card away. “Come on, Eggsy. Let’s go.”

Eggsy gives Harry an apologetic smile and a little shrug but doesn’t say anything. He trots after Charlie and just as they are about to leave, he turns and looks back at Harry with another smile.

Harry, still riding that idiocy-high, raises his hand as if to wave. 

And then Eggsy is gone.

*

Charlie calls them a cab that takes them to a terraced house in South Kensington. He pays the driver and they clamber out of the back. 

Walking up to the house, Charlie points down the street. “There’s a cabstand there if you wanna take one later. Tube’s not far either.”

“Later?” Eggsy asks a little incredulously. It’s the first thing Charlie has said to him since they’ve left the restaurant. 

“You’re not staying the night. You didn’t think you were, right?”

Eggsy wants to say something but Charlie isn’t done yet. 

“What did you think would happen? This was just going to be dinner and a leg over.” He walks up the steps to the front door. “So… you coming?”

“Actually, I’m not,” Eggsy says and he’s surprised by himself.

“Excuse me?”

“I think I’m going to head home.”

Charlie scoffs. “You’re changing your fucking mind now? After I paid for dinner?”

“You didn’t. And honestly, even if you had offered it, I wouldn’t have accepted it. You’re rude and you’re mean to everyone you don’t consider your rank. And to be honest, that’s a fucking turn-off for me.”

“But you agreed.”

Eggsy shrugs. “Yeah, because I thought I had to. Your family is our client and I wanted to make nice. But now…. I just can’t. And if they’re going to fire me for not sleeping with you… then I knew it was the right decision. Good night, Charlie.”

With that, Eggsy zips up his jacket and walks away. 

His stride is brisk so that maybe he doesn’t need to think about what he’s just done. Maybe he has jeopardized his job but he knows he’s doing the right thing. He knows what it’s like to sleep with people just because you think you have to. He’s seen his mother do it often enough to appease his scumbag of a stepfather. He’s not blaming her, not at all. Nor does he think he’s better than her by saying no. The circumstances are different, he only has himself to look out for and not a toddler to protect. But still… finding a job like his at a posh tailor had been a draw of luck and now he might lose that for clinging to his stupid principles… 

He sniffles and wipes a stray tear away as he places his oyster card on the yellow pad and enters the tube station.

*

A couple of days later, Eggsy checks his credit card balance. He’s sold one of his snapbacks on ebay to have some extra money for a birthday present for his sister and the guy promised to pay him three days ago. 

He frowns a bit at the amount. It’s higher than it should be and he doubts the buyer has paid him more than the agreed on price. So he goes through the transactions and frowns some more. 

The one from the restaurant Charlie has taken him to is not there. 

Did Charlie pay for both their bills after all? Eggsy doubts that. And Charlie would have said so when Eggsy confronted him about it. It wouldn’t have changed Eggsy’s opinion, it wouldn’t have made him go with him after all but he still feels a bit bad about it. 

So he pulls out his phone and types: “Did you pay for that dinner? E.”

It doesn’t take long for Charlie to reply: “WTF? No, I didn’t. Why?”

“Nvm.”

Eggsy mulls over his balance for a little longer. What does this mean? Did the restaurant not withdraw their money yet? Did something go wrong? Of course he had thrown out his copy of the bill so he can’t check. He should probably call or go down there and ask. He really doesn’t want to get into trouble if that bill isn’t paid. 

When he calls, the answering machine tells him their opening hours and that any inquiries should be addressed through their website but since Eggsy meant to head into the city anyway for that birthday present, he decides to go by the place and just ask in person.

*

The same receptionist awaits Eggsy as he approaches. “Good evening, Sir. May I help you?”

“Uhm, yes… I think. I was here the other week and… I think there’s a problem with my… with my payment.”

The man gives him a onceover Eggsy is very familiar with. And he is even dressed in his work clothes, a nice pair of trousers and a button-down. Which, of course, the man can’t see because he’s put on his black and orange trek jacket that’s…. not really going with the decor of the restaurant. 

“What exactly seems to be the problem?”

“I paid by card but it didn’t go out of my account.”

The receptionist’s brow goes up. “And you checked that you have enough money on there?”

“What? Yes, of course,” Eggsy snaps. “Listen… can I talk to the waiter? His name was… Harry, I think.” Eggsy knows exactly that the waiter’s name had been Harry. How could he forget the most handsome man he’s ever seen. 

The receptionist eyes him a moment longer before picking up the mobile phone he keeps at his station. “It’s Arthur. Could you send Harry out, please. Here’s a… customer to see him about a bill.” There is nothing but disdain the man’s voice. “Yes, I tell him.”

The man - Arthur apparently - looks back at Eggsy. “You can go in. Harry is at the bar.”

Eggsy lets out a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

The place looks a little less grand with the house lights up but Eggsy feels just as uncomfortable as he had a few days ago. True to Arthur’s word Harry is waiting at the bar, talking to another man. And he _does_ in fact look just as grand as Eggsy remembered. 

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you. I don’t know if you remember me,” Eggsy starts, slightly taken aback by the bright smile on Harry’s face when he sees him which seems a bit odd somehow.

“Of course, yes… Eggy, was it?”

“Eggsy, actually… well, Gary but… Eggsy is fine.”

“Very well, Eggsy. Arthur said something about a bill. Is something the matter?”

Eggsy shifts uneasy. “Yeah, I… I didn’t pay for it.”

The bald man behind the bar chokes on his tea and hurries off into the kitchen.

The expression on Harry’s face gets even stranger. It's a mix of surprise and horror and something else. Embarrassment maybe? When he doesn’t answer, Eggsy gets even more uneasy. 

“Harry?” he asks.

“Your bill has been paid, Eggsy. I can assure you. It’s all good.”

“I don’t understand.” 

If someone can lose all color in face yet blush at the same time, it’s Harry. “I paid for your dinner.”

“What?”

There’s a clattering sound coming from the kitchen as if someone had just dropped a tray. 

“I… I can explain,” Harry stammers.

“I’d appreciate it if you would, yeah.” Eggsy isn’t sure if he is supposed to be angry or surprised or something else entirely. 

“I… the man you were with a regular customer,” Harry begins, looking helplessly into the direction of the kitchen. “He tends to bring young men such as yourself, and they have dinner. And he is always so incredibly rude.”

Eggsy scoffs. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Not just to me or the other staff but also to his companions,” Harry continues. “And I could tell you weren’t having a good time. Especially since this… well, this doesn’t seem like…” Now Harry does blush violently. “We are probably not a place you usually have dinner at.”

“Oy,” Eggsy snaps. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Is it not true? Because if I’m wrong, let me apologize.”

“No, you’re right but… what the fuck? So you just thought because I don’t do the fancy dining thing all that often I needed handouts?” Now Eggsy starts to feel properly angry. Who the hell does that guy think he is? 

“By no means, no. I just thought… since you were in such miserable company, you should at least have a free meal.” Harry looks downright gutted at his confession but that only spurs Eggsy’s anger. 

“You posh blokes are all the same, aren’t you? Thinking just because you got the accent, know which fork to eat with and have a silver spoon up your arse, you can just look down at the rest of us. Like we need your goodwill and all…”

Harry takes a step towards him but Eggsy backs away. “I understand that you’re angry but believe me I…”

“What? Did you want to buy me off, too? Charme me with a warm meal like I’m some charity case?”

“I most certainly did not…”

“You know… fuck this. I felt bad for you when Charlie said those things but you’re no better than him.” Eggsy digs into his pocket for a bunch of folded pound notes and tosses them at Harry who just gapes at him. “See… now you know what it’s like being treated like some cheap rent boy.”

With that, Eggsy storms out, tears threatening to spill but he holds them back until he’s out on the street. 

*

“You’re a bloody idiot, Harry Hart. This clearly is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” Merlin appears behind the bar again. 

“I’m acutely aware.” Harry gathers the money and puts it into his pocket. Then he spots something else. A business card. Eggsy must have lost it when he’d taken out the money. Kingsman Tailors. Harry stashes that too. “That wasn’t meant to happen.”

“And what did you think would happen? That he’d be the damsel in distress to your Prince Charming and you’d ride off into the sunset together?” Merlin sounds half amused, half pitiful. 

“Don’t be an idiot, Merlin,” Harry snaps at him when he’s really just angry with himself. He’ll need to buy his oldest friend a whisky later. 

“No, Harry… You’re the idiot. And you know it.”

*

Eggsy isn’t angry. He is way past anger. He’s fucking furious. 

One should think that he’d be used to this kind of thing by now. People looking down on him. Treating him like rubbish because he’s from the wrong side of town, from the Estates rather than the posh little terraced houses.

He’s never been rich, probably never will be. But he earns his own money, he’s good at job and the people he cares about like him. His mom is doing better now and his baby sister, too. He’s made something for himself and he’s proud of it. 

And yes there’s people like Charlie and his uncle and that haughty receptionist and Harry who think they’re better than him. And that he needs their welfare.

They are not. And he doesn’t.

They don’t know him. Not at all. They don’t know what he’s been through, what he had to do.

The worst thing is, the thing that makes the tears spill down Eggsy’s cheeks now is that for a little moment he’d let himself believe that Harry might have been different.

He can’t even pinpoint why but the way he’d stood up against Charlie, not taking his bullshit and putting him in his place while remaining totally cool… it had impressed Eggsy. And for just that little moment he’d felt oddly protected. Like this older gentleman was standing up for him as well as himself, saying what was on Eggsy’s mind, too. 

But in hindsight, the polite smile and the well-practised phrases had probably just been an act. A job. 

And paying for Eggsy’s bill? Somewhere in the back of his mind he almost thinks it’s cute and that Harry had looked genuinely hurt by Eggsy’s outburst but what the hell? He can pay for his own meals. He doesn’t need charity. Especially not the kind of charity that makes him feel like a boy off of Smith Street.

And that’s what hurts the most.

*

“I should apologize. I should go and apologize.” Harry paces in front of the bar while Merlin takes inventory.

“You already tried. He didn’t seem to want to hear it.”

“But he’ll have to. I didn’t… I didn’t mean what he was suggesting.”

Merlin puts down his clipboard. “And what, pray tell, did you mean? What were you thinking?”

“I… I honestly don’t know.” Harry sinks down on one of the stools. “I… I thought that maybe if I… that he’d… and we…”

“Alright, simmer down, not everything at once.”

Harry’s shoulders sag. “He is beautiful, Merlin.”

“Aye.”

“And for a moment I thought… I let myself be fooled.”

Merlin snorts. “I told you you need to get laid.”

“It’s not about that. It’s… the way he smiled to himself when I gave Mr Hesketh a little taste of his own medicine… I felt as if that smile was for me. Not just me, the waiter, but…. me.”

“You have a crush on him,” Merlin says matter-of-factly.

“Yes. Yes, I believe I do.”

“And what are you doing to do about it?”

“What _can_ I do about it? Thanks to my brilliant backfiring plan I don’t have a credit card statement, so no name or address.”

Merlin mulls over that for a moment. “If this was one of your old fashioned spy movies you’d suddenly come up with a well-hidden but case-solving clue.”

At that, Harry’s brows go up. He reaches into his pocket and produces the business card.

“Kingsman Tailors?” Merlin reads. “That’s a fancy address. He didn’t look like a tailor.”

Harry scoffs. “Please, as if you know what a tailor looks like.”

“Maybe not, because - as he so beautifully put it - I wasn’t born with a silver spoon up my arse but… do you think that’ll help? You think he works there.”

Harry looks down at the slightly mangled card. “It’s worth a try.” 

*

It takes Harry almost a week to muster up the courage to actually cross the street on Savile Row and enter the shop. Twice he’s just walked by, casting stolen glances at the fancy suits in the window, trying to see if Eggsy really does work there. So far, no luck. 

So he pushes through the door, holding it for another gentleman who’s about to leave, then approaches the counter. 

“Excuse me, sir,” he asks with a polite little bow. “I have a rather strange question.”

The older gentleman at the counter - his name tag reads “Andrew - eyes him with the most neutral expression Harry has ever seen. “Try me, sir.”

“I… I’m looking for a young man who might be working here. He goes by the rather unfortunate nickname of Eggsy.” Harry feels like an idiot, the heat in his cheeks proving his point. 

“If said young man would indeed work here… may I ask what his is about?”

Harry fidgets a bit. He hasn’t really thought about a story. “I… you see, I work at a restaurant he visited recently and he… he forgot something. I would like to return it to him.”

Andrew eyes him for a moment. “I can give it to him… if he was working here.”

“I’d rather give to him in…”

“That’s some bloody heavy fabric, Andrew. What is this? Kevlar?” A swinging door opens and Eggsy pushes through, carrying three thick bolts of fabric that almost block his vision. He stops dead when he’s able to pear over his baggage. “What are you doing here? Are you stalking me now?”

“I take it you know this gentleman?” Andrew looks between them. “If you want me to make him leave…”

Eggsy dumps the bolts on another counter. “No, it’s fine. He’ll leave just on his own.”

“I only wish to speak to you, Eggsy. Nothing more,” Harry tries but he already knows he’s lost his footing. 

“But I don’t want to speak with you. So please…” Eggsy gestures for the door. “Don’t make Andrew break out his martial arts skills.”

If it’s meant as a joke, Andrew’s face doesn’t give it away. 

“Right.” Harry turns to leave. “I’m sorry to have taken up your time. Good day.”

Harry isn’t sure what he’s expected but he still feels disappointed. He can’t blame Eggsy for not talking to him, he did behave like a proper idiot.

So it takes him by surprise when he’s already halfway down the street and Eggsy calls after him. 

“How did you even know where to find me?”

Harry turns around and pulls the business card from his pocket. It’s even more bent and worn because Harry has been playing with it constantly for the past week. “You lost this.”

“Right…,” Eggsy nods, then already turns halfway to go back.

“I’m sorry, Eggsy.”

Eggsy stops but doesn’t turn around.

“Paying for your meal without your knowledge was foolish. And my reasoning behind it even more so. I would like to explain it if you’re willing to hear me out.” Harry is clutching the business card in his hand, somewhere in the back of his mind he sends a little prayer up to whoever might be listening. 

Eggsy doesn’t answer for a long time. He doesn’t move either. “There’s a coffee shop down the street. I could use a cuppa.”

*

They sit in awkward silence at a little table in the corner of the shop. Eggsy has ordered himself a hot chocolate while Harry sticks to tea.

“You wanted to explain,” Eggsy says at last. “Explain, then.”

“I’m an old man,” Harry begins, looking down into his cup. “Or as Mr Hesketh likes to put it… an old poofter.” He raises a hand when Eggsy wants to say something, quieting him. “Please, I… let me finish, please. It comes with my job to observe people, to watch them while they eat, converse, laugh… without ever being a part of it. And sometimes I… I catch myself… fantasizing.”

Eggsy’s brows go up and almost pushes his chair back a bit.

“I know that sounds… dirty but… I just imagine what it’d be like to be in their place, really. Having a nice dinner in good company. Especially…,” Harry clears his throat, shrinking back a little, “especially if said company is a gorgeous young man like yourself.”

Now it’s Eggsy’s turn to look away. 

“Seeing you with Mr Hesketh… hearing the way he talked to you… the way he treated you… I felt sorry for you, if I’m being honest. Something that seems rather foolish in hindsight. If I have offended you in any way… I hope you can accept my apology.”

Eggsy remains quiet for a long moment, absently playing with his cup. “Paying for my dinner was the dumbest thing anyone has ever done for me,” he finally says and it has Harry shrink back even more. “Probably also the nicest,” he admits after a little pause. “Still bloody stupid, though.”

“I’m… most acutely aware. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Where I’m from people don’t do that. Money’s one thing but… if they do… they always have… ulterior motives.”

Harry all but leaps out of his chair, reaching halfway across the table. “I did not have any such motives, Eggsy. You have to believe that.” When Eggsy pulls away, he quickly adds: “Other than an old man’s foolish daydream that someone like you would spend his time with me.”

Heat rises into Eggsy’s cheeks. “Ain’t all that, really. And you’re not old, alright? You’re well fit and all.” His face turns any even deeper shade of pink at the words.

“You mostly certainly are just being nice but… I appreciate it.” Harry’s little smile puts Eggsy a little bit at ease.

“What I’m saying is… maybe I… overreacted a little that day. When I went to dinner with Charlie he wanted us to f... ,” Eggsy catches himself, “he had ulterior motives that night. I knew that when he asked me and I agreed because his family is filthy rich and I was afraid to lose my job. I need that job, see… first time anyone’s given me a proper chance ever, so…” He clears his throat before he continues. “You were nice to me. I know that’s your job and all but… I liked how you didn’t look down on me even if I could even read the menu with all the French stuff on it. So when you said you’d paid for it I felt…”

“Belittled?” Harry tries to help when Eggsy pauses.

“I was going for betrayed but yeah… like you didn’t even expect me to have money or something. Like I was just some rent boy or whatever.”

“I was assuming no such thing, Eggsy. Please be assured of that.”

Eggsy gives him a little sad smile along with a shrug. “Wouldn’t be that far off, really,” he says more to himself than to Harry. If Harry has even heard it, he can’t tell. 

“I suppose the opposite of good is indeed good intentions,” Harry says after a little pause. “Is there…. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

“You can let me pay for that meal for starters.”

Harry smiles apologetically. “I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that. I sure won’t take your money.” He reaches into his pocket and produces the bills Eggsy had thrown at him, neatly folded in a money clip. 

“Yeah, you will. I ain’t no skinflint or something. I pay what I owe.”

Harry has to grin at his little outburst. “Alright. Well… may I make a suggestion?”

Eggsy gives him a little side-eye. “Yeah, alright.”

Harry puffs out a breath as if what he’s about to say won’t come easily. “I’d understand if you said no but… since you’ve recently saved some money,” he holds up the clip, “how about you invite me for a meal next time.”

Eggsy eyes him a little doubtfully, then a little smile tugs at his lips. “But I ain’t taking you to one of them fancy places. I’ve had enough of the chi-chi for a while. We’ll do a proper fish and chips and a pint somewhere.”

“Really?” Harry all but blurts, looking actually surprised by Eggsy’s answer. “You’d… you would do that?”

“Yeah, of course.” Again, Eggsy blushes a subtle shade of pink. “Think I talked to you more now than I talked to Charlie during the entire evening.”

Harry sobers a little and he looks away. “I have to ask… and please don’t get the wrong way but… his ulterior motives….”

“We didn’t,” Eggsy says simply, mostly to take Harry out of his misery. “I didn’t want to. After the way he treated you… and me… wasn’t really in the mood for it.” He shrugs. “Not really my type to begin with anyway.”

Harry picks up his cup and takes a big gulp of his tea. “And who… if I may ask… would be… your type?”

Eggsy grins at that. “Oh I can’t say, really. Bit older, maybe. Posh. And money.” He plucks the pound notes from Harry’s hand. “Gotta have money.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Harry says, blushing a bit. Then he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and takes out a pen. “Just in case one of those isn’t available, I’ll give you my number so we can arrange things. I’m free Mondays and Tuesdays.” He scribbles his number on a paper napkin.

“Aces. I’ll send you a text, then.” Eggsy puts the napkin into his pocket. “If we can find a really cheap place to eat, we’ll even have money to buy condoms for later.”

Harry literally chokes on his tea, turning beet-red, and he has to thumb a fist against his sternum to catch a breath again. “I bed you pardon?”

“I was just taking the piss, Harry.” Eggsy grins at him from ear to ear. “Now you know how uncomfortable your little stunt made me.”

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

“Only if you won’t either.” Eggsy holds out a hand. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Harry says, still wheezing a bit. 

He doesn’t let go of Eggsy’s hand right away. 

And Eggsy doesn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr @ tastymoves


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